


Reflections of the Past

by Araelinn



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A'rudoh Vezih, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Altani Dayan, Au Ra Xaela Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Cyrus Drage, Eight Umbral Calamity, Gen, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multiple Warriors of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araelinn/pseuds/Araelinn
Summary: Entries for the 2020 FFXIV September Writing Challenge. First time publishing, might later come back to polish these.Latest Chapter Prompt:Day 15: AcheThe dull ache in his face as warm blood slid down it. The painful grip on his knife as his vision came into focus, no longer disorientated from the ambush from his assailant.‘Who was it that attacked him that day?’
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur & Alphinaud Leveilleur, Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Scions of the Seventh Dawn & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 3
Collections: #FFxivWrite2020 Final Fantasy 30 Day Writing Challenge, Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Bookclub FFXIV-Writes 2020 Collection





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is where I'll be writting my entries for the 30 day FFXIV writing challenge that was shared in one of the servers I'm in. For anyone interested here's the link: https://ffxiv-write.carrd.co/#participate .
> 
> Day 1: crux  
> /krəks,kro͝oks/  
> noun  
> noun: crux  
> the decisive or most important point at issue.

Millennia ago, long before the sundering. Lay a city, deep below, where great minds worked together to deliver the star from its fate. Together they had toiled, fourteen seats tasked with guiding the Ancient city of Amaurot. Always united, always finding an answer satisfying to each of them. There were disagreements, but they always found compromise.

Or so it was.

Until those who shared the fourteenth seat, the travelers. Resigned from their office.

* * *

Phaeton carefully placed the last of his belongings on his well-worn pack. Closing it he took a last look around the apartment he had lived in since being awarded a seat in the convocation. Though a shared seat it was one of the proudest moments of his life. Yet, for everything it meant to him then, he never expected the Convocation to take such drastic measures.

Yes, the laws of nature are being twisted by some force, but still!-

“Ah, here you are. You do know that leaving the convocation does not mean you have to leave the city, right?” The intruder says in a characteristic, almost condescending, tone of his. He looks over his shoulder to see him standing near the door, a spare key in his hands. Were he someone less familiar with Hades, he would be insulted. Fortunately, or unfortunately, for him he knows him well. Even better than most.

“I’m leaving with Erato and Medea”

“You haven’t answered, my dear. If you three wanted to travel, as you do, you needn’t resign your post, Azem’s moniker is  _ The Traveler _ for a reason.”

“You know why we resigned, there was no way we could endorse such an action. No way  _ I  _ could.” He can feel the frustration building up as he tries to explain again the reasons why they thought this wasn’t a wise course of action. What the Convocation didn’t listen to. “I cannot endorse a plan that requires sacrificing innocent souls!”

Silence reigns the apartment as Hades considers his words, his gaze roaming around the room. Does he see what Phaeton does? Memories of the past, of midnight debates that lasted almost until dawn, of intimate moments as their relationship developed. The sense of melancholy that fills him is almost drowning. All that work, all those memories, and for what?

Hades breaks the silence right before it becomes unbearable. His tone is different, calmer. Less like he’s giving one of his speeches and more like the quiet talks they used to have when they were both struck by a bout of insomnia back when students were all they were.

“I’ve always said that your Idealism is one of your most admirable traits. But this an issue that cannot be simply put aside because the response we have does not fit your standards.”

Phaeton takes a deep breath. What was once a building raging inferno becomes an icy blizzard at his words. And by the look on Hades’ face, he noticed too.   
  
“You know, that the reason we share the seat of Azem is so even our opinions do not lean towards one side or another when it comes to the rest of the Star. Even if I am an  _ idealistic fool,  _ cynical Erato and moderate Medea agree with me in this. Something you, and the rest of the convocation, ignored as you voted for this plan despite our protests. That is the crux of this issue!”

He smiles at Hades bitterly as he takes his traveling pack and calmly walks towards the door, towards the door.

“Wait Phae-”

“The Convocation will not suffer the weight of these three fools serving as the seat of Azem any longer.” He interrupts as he opens the door.

  
Phaeton pauses, outside and ready to close the door, and looks at him one last time. “I wish you the best in your endeavors,  _ Emet-Selch. _ ”


	2. A Loved One's Touch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 Prompt: Sway  
> /swā/  
> verb  
> move or cause to move slowly or rhythmically backward and forward or from side to side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5.0 Spoilers.

Altani still remembers.

Though few, she clings to the memories of her life before that remain, full of holes and faces without names, but still precious to her.

Her life before Eorzea, before fighting endless wars in the name of another. The time before Garlemald. Before the secrets of her past, their past, had to be kept secret from their closest friends and allies. Lest the image that had been built around them crumble to pieces.

But at this moment, that does not matter. Her mind trapped in a haze of light. Fighting to contain it. The slight awareness of the two bodies near her, the only thing able to register through the pain clouding her mind as the light inside them tries to reform into one.

The unbearable pain reminds of one of those moments from before. She can almost feel the strength of his arms around her small form as he lightly swayed her to and fro while their tribe traveled. The heat made the fever more pronounced, but the safety she felt while in his hold made it more bearable. She can almost feel his hand caressing her hair-

Wait.

No, she feels someone running their hands through her hair.

Altani tries to open her eyes to no avail. Only getting a vague feeling of aether running through her body. Carefully stemming the light from bursting from her soul.

She leans into the hand as the relief from pain drags her back into unconsciousness.


	3. The Noodle Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3: Muster  
> mus·ter  
> /ˈməstər/  
> noun  
> 1.  
> a formal gathering of troops, especially for inspection, display, or exercise.  
> 2.  
> RARE  
> a group of peacocks.

Aphinaud examines the three Warriors as they hang precariously by the strength of some clotheslines and possibly their innate luck. Their forms tangled upside down in the mess of ropes and cloths, below them lies a vat with murky water that seems deep enough to not break their necks in case of a fall.   
  


“Is there any reason why you three can’t get down on your own? I am pretty sure the water below would break your fall. And I don’t believe those ropes are enough to keep you contained.”

A’rudoh looks at him uncertainly.

“Usually you’d be right but… uh, that water down there has Extract of Morbol.”

The scions look at each other confused, except Urianger who looks at Altani expectantly.

“Does thou mean the concoction Altani hath been developing to mimic the effects and odour of a Morbol’s exhale?”

The Warrior in question looks elsewhere, avoiding the judging gazes of the other scions and her fellow Warriors of Light..

“Maybe…?” She answers sheepishly. “The mix is somwhat heavy, so it kind of sunk to the bottom. If we were to fall, well… It won’t be pretty that is for sure.”

A heavy sigh. “Okay, that answers that.” Thancred gestures at their general situation. “But how did you three end up in that position? And why are you covered in… are those peacock feathers?”

“Yes…?.” Answers Cyrus swaying back and forth from his latest attempt at getting out of the bindings without falling down. “And how we got here-” The three warriors of light share a glance

“-well… we tripped, uh, while helping some friends.” The hyur finally answers.

Alisaie looks at them, unimpressed. “And what? You fought a muster of peacocks while helping these friends of yours?”

Cyrus opens his mouth to correct her, then stops, contemplating her words. The miqo’te looks at him and answers in his stead.

“-I mean, that’s kinda not far off.”

“If that’s the case then it should be better if you deal with the consequences of your own actions, no?” Said Y'shtola

“Wait what?” The Warriors reply simultaneously.

“You heard what I said, let them live with the consequences of their actions.” She gives them a mischievous smile.

“I quite agree, they always seem to get in and out of all situations, there’s no reason to believe this will be any different.” The Red Mage added.

“Wait”, Alisaie? Not you too! I’ve helped you train before! Served as a punching bag for you!.” Exclaims the hyur, to which the red mage gives a nonchalant shrug. Before walking away with Y’shtola.

“Urianger? Thancred?”

The two scions shrug and follow behind the other two.

“Alphinaud?”

The elezen starts at his mention looking from the three dangling heroes and the rest of the scions who are looking back at him.

“Um, I believe  _ Ishouldgobye! _ ” The young man reuniting with the rest of the scions as they went away from the Warriors’ predicament. Urging the reaction of A’rudoh.

“Wait-! Gods damn you all I swear-!”

* * *

“Are you sure it’s wise to leave them hanging there?” Alphinaud asks the rest of the scions after joining them on their way, once the shouts from the tied up trio fade somewhat in the background.

_ “Twelve damn it A’rudoh stop moving around!’ _

“Eh, the worst that could happen is them getting bogged down for a while, the effects would last a short time, no Urianger?”

_ “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t your creation down there!” _

“Indeed. Though, the odor would linger, I believe. At least that’s my conclusion from my discussions with Altani on the subject.”

_ “Please stop fighting guys, if you keep moving around we’ll-!” _   
  
“I guess if that’s the case-”

_ -SNAP! _

In the background they could hear the tale tell sound of a rope snapping followed by a series of splashes. Then curses as the trio emerge from the water vat.

“I believe that’s our cue to go.” The scions hurry away, not wanting to deal with the wrath of three primal slaying adventurers.


	4. A Bloody Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 4: clinch   
> /klin(t)SH/  
> transitive verb  
> Grapple at close quarters, especially (of boxers) so as to be too closely engaged for full-arm blows.  
> Synonyms:  
> grapple, wrestle, struggle with each other, scuffle with each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing a fight scene, hopefully you like it :D

The force of the blow forces him to give ground. Disorientated, A’rudoh almost falls to the ground if only due to quickly catching himself staying at all fours instead of falling to the floor mat sweating profusely. His vision swims as he notices splotches of red on the ground, slowly regaining the sensation on his face, he feels something warm and slick sliding down his face.

He takes a moment before composing himself, and slowly getting back up. Luckily, by the bloodied look of his opponent, the damage he had inflicted was enough for the other to take a moment to recuperate instead of pressing the advantage.

By the look of his handler he better break some ground lest he suffer the consequences.

He takes a look at his opponent, barely older than him, before approaching again. He may be stronger than himself, but he’s more agile, fainting around his target before taking a strike at him. He throws a punch in the target’s direction getting closer to them-

Suddenly his opponent moves forward, the keeper sees stars as he takes the force of the blow once again, he offhandedly realizes his opponent had headbutted him. But that realization doesn’t get much time to take in as he’s cliched by his opponent, and a barrage of blows descends on him; most of the blow rob him of breath as he sees from the corner of his eye the other’s arm draws back for a hook he has no way to avoid.

The pain of the impact spreads through his face as the force of it makes him fall, in the back of his mind he can feel his face slick and wet, if it’s from more blood or sweat, he cannot tell. However there is only one thing on his mind as his consciousness fades, as he sees his handler step away from the spectator platform shaking his head.

_ ‘Tomorrow’s gonna be hell…’ _


	5. Perceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5: matter of fact  
> noun  
> noun: matter of fact; plural noun: matters of fact  
> something that belongs to the sphere of fact as distinct from opinion or conjecture.

“‘Tis good, you’re strong my friend. Could not hav’ done it without ya’.”

_ ‘That’s not true! I am weak! How can I be strong when I could not save those I cared for the most?!” _

* * *

“I am a disgrace to my art, but you, you can do what I could not. You’re a more appropriate person to carry this legacy than me.

_ ‘How can I be better than you? You don’t know me, you don’t know what I’ve done!” _

* * *

“You can bring new focus into our art, show them that destruction can be used responsibly.”

_ ‘Is it correct to place such trust in me? When everything I’ve brought was either burden or ash and smoke?’ _

* * *

“Truly a hero you are-”

“-honest and caring-”

“- we couldn't ask for more.”

_ ‘We’re not who you think!-’ _

_ ‘We’re liars and cheats.’ _

_ ‘But if this is our role to play…’ _

**_‘Then so be it. As a matter of fact, we’ll keep the charade for as long as it lasts. But when it comes crumbling down, let’s see what you think of your heroes then.’_ **


	6. Rest for the Weary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shoul·der  
> /ˈSHōldər/  
> noun  
> noun: shoulder; plural noun: shoulders  
> 1.  
> the upper joint of the human arm and the part of the body between this and the neck.

If there ever was a sign that the land was in relative calm, was for those who entered the Rising stones, to see the three Warriors of Light dozing lightly in a corner. Out of armor and without weapons in sight.

Sitting side to side as they leaned on each other’s shoulders as impromptu pillows. It was a sweet sight.

And there was hell to pay to whoever disturbed them unnecessarily. 


	7. Price of Heroism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7: non·a·ge·nar·i·an  
> /ˌnänəjəˈnerēən,ˌnōnəjəˈnerēən/  
> noun  
> noun: nonagenarian; plural noun: nonagenarians  
> a person who is from 90 to 99 years old.

Altani eventually understood the price of being a hero.

After experiencing losses during the multiple trials that her life had been involved with after being declared Warrior of Light along with her two brothers in arms. She understood it in the way timeless beings compared them to heroes of eld, as the mortal masses drew their own parallels between the two as well.

Being a hero means to be remembered as a symbol, but not a person.

Being a hero means a violent end to your life.

Because heroes don’t live happy long lives, not that the three of them deserve so, not after what they have done. Heroes live exciting, albeit shot, lives. Their end always comes from sacrifice one way or another; either give your life to protect others, or die in the attempt. And she saw it in everyone they had been compared to.

She saw it in Ramza, who gave everything to seal a great evil, willing to be the villain as long as those he cared about survived.

She saw it in Tenzen who is fated to hold the seal that keeps Koryu in check. Until some other hero, years in the future, grants him peace from his duty. 

Her fate, their fate. Will likely not be much different. And she has made her own piece with that, that this way of life will get her and her fellow warriors killed or worse, one of these days. 

Yet.

When she sees an eldery man and his grandson pass her by, the elder probably nonagenarian from his appearance, she can’t help but _wonder…_

But alas, that is not the fate of a hero, and that is their price to pay.


	8. Fields of Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: clam·or  
> /ˈklamər/  
> noun  
> noun: clamour; noun: clamor  
> a loud and confused noise, especially that of people shouting vehemently.

Cyrus can hear the clamor of soldiers in battle as the group moves forward through the Ghymlit Dark. The sound of the alliance repelling the assault from the empire in the background as they move. Dispatching foes as quickly as possible to reach their friends in need of aid.

He can see from the corner of his eye as Altani dispatches another garlean soldier, A’rudoh’s healing letting them keep a breakneck pace as they move across the field towards their objective. 

The sound of gunshots and explosions faintly reminds him of that time, years ago. Cartenau, and the fall of Dalamud. He faintly wonders if he’d be on the other side of the battlefield. Had they not been in that hellscape years ago, would they have ended up ending the lives of those they now call friends?

He’s distracted by a shadow approaching Rudoh from the back he quickly raises his firearm and pulls the trigger, ending the threat before it was too late. The keeper looks back at him, nodding gratefully, before rushing ahead in the aid of the xaela. 

He shakes his head and follows behind them.

Now’s not the time for recollection.


	9. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9: lush  
> /ləSH/  
> adjective  
> (of vegetation) growing luxuriantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the few prompts I def wanna revisit and flesh out more. But for now, enjoy!

The lush greenery of Il Mheg is appropriate for a picnic, Alphinaud supposes, if not for the risk of the different fae creatures trying to play their tricks and games on them. Fortunately the three warriors' relation with the current Titania did bring some benefits. Giving them some measure of peace and respite long needed.

And it was refreshing to see the trio finally relaxing for once. The unusual sight of them in more comfortable clothes instead of armor was of notice, as they rarely allowed themselves to be so unprotected. Even on formal events their garments were usually more ornate armor rather than simple fancy garments most use. So to see them only with their weapons lying nearby was a surprise and, according to Thancred, Ryne’s fault.

“I can hear you thinking all the way from here, you do know this is supposed to be a break dear brother?” Came the teasing voice of his twin sister, snapping him out of his reverie as she approaches from behind him. The fact that her rapier lies nearby with his tome shows she finished making sure they would not be bothered for this outing, even after the King’s promise.

“Well of course I know, Alisaie.” He snaps back exasperated.

“Then what?- Oh I see, you were thinking you should have brought your sketchbook to make another of your multiple drawings of the three of them, no?” She smirks at him. “Not like you’ve not already filled a few with drawings of them. But I’m pretty sure they would pose for you if you asked.”

“What-? I guess, but no!” He can feel the color rising to his face, surely his ears are bright red right now from how warm they feel. “Besides it is not like you’re any better, you’re almost as bad as the Exarch!’

“I am not *that* bad, and how would *you* know?”

  
“The same you would know with me *dear sister*.” Alisaie’s only response was an indignant “Hmph!”

A few moments of silence pass between them, Aplhinaud being the one to break it with a sigh.

“That was not what I was thinking about.” 

“Then what?”

He carefully ponders his words looking at the three heroes as they seemed to be joking around with the older members, Cyrus explaining something to Ryne as the other two tried to stop laughing. “Have you noticed how our friends only recently opened up to us?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just… before they only seemed to open up to other person’s blessed by Hydaelyn.” He remembers how before, they rarely even opened up to the others, only with Minfilia they seemed to have a less formal relationship. Even then it could not be compared to the relationship between each other. “They’ve slowly opened up but… ”

“But it seemed one sided.”

“Yes, I just wonder what changed…”

“Maybe it was when the light almost overwhelmed them?” He gives his twin a confused look. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe it was also our fault? Maybe we unintentionally made the distance between us?”

“I suppose, but whatever the case it is. At least now it’s different.” Alisaie nods in agreement as both decide to approach the group, making the most of this beautiful day.


	10. Hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 10: a·vail  
> /əˈvāl/  
> noun  
> use or benefit.
> 
> Similar:  
> in vain  
> without success  
> unsuccessfully  
> vainly  
> with no result

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad while writing this one, but hopefully you enjoy it.

The world burns around them, they try to save them they do, but to no avail. As they inhale the gas he can feel the numbness spreading, surprised at the fact that he stands. Their copious amount of aether they possess thanks to Hydaelyn perhaps? It doesn’t matter anymore, it’s just a matter of time. The scions, their friends, their mentors all have fallen, and they could do nothing. Is there anyone that still lives? Or are they the only ones left?

A hoarse whispered voice draws his attention. “A’rudoh?”

He turns towards the inside of the destroyed building they’ve used to shelter and hide. There, the two of them lie, sitting against a piece of rubble leaning on one another. Battered and bloody like him Altani had been the one to call him and he can see why. 

Cyrus lies next to her, he got out of their last battle the worst off. A bloody piece of cloth wrapped around his eyes, a stray explosion rendering him blind. Barely moving, and for a moment he fears he was the first to go.

As he approaches he could finally see movement from his wounded friend. This relief is short lived as he sees him shaking, his good hearing revealing why in a frantic whisper from Cyrus.

_ “I don’t wanna die alone, please I don’t wanna be alone.” _

His heart breaks at the state of the most optimistic between them. As Altani looks at him worriedly, he can see how she tried to help the hyur as she practically clings to him, desperately trying to remind him of her presence. And though it seems to help, the Warrior’s arm clinging desperately to her despite the growing weakness in all of them, he can see the other arm searching frantically around him, searching for something,  _ for someone _ ,  _ for him.  _

Carefully avoiding the rubble he finally reaches them, reaching Cyrus’ free arm, as it suddenly captures his’ in a tight grip. Though almost painful, the keeper does not complain taking his place on the other side of the hyur.

“I’m here Cyr, I’ll not go that easy.” He tries to sound joking, but it only comes out sounding hollow. With his blind friend’s only response being to tighten his grip on him.

A’rudoh feels himself weakening as the time passes by; breathing becomes more difficult, his body feeling like lead, eyes difficult to open.

Through blurry vision he can see Altani and Cyrus seemingly caught in what seems like peaceful slumber. The worry lines from before all but gone. He thinks of those they failed as he closes his eyes, wanting to join his dearest friends.

_ ‘I’m sorry’ _


	11. Mortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 12: Tooth and Nail

It was easy to forget that the Warriors of Light were, ultimately, mortal. Fighting primals and countless enemies was their usual.

However even  _ that _ kind of strength has its limits...

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn got reminded of this in the worst way possible. Searching all of Norvrandt for a solution to their friends' condition. 

Watching their unconscious bodies fighting tooth and nail to subdue the effects of the Light, was a wake up call for all of them nonetheless. 


	12. Waste of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Make up day) Prompt 11: ultracrepidarian - noun  
> A person who expresses opinions on matters outside the scope of their knowledge or expertise.

If there’s anything the Warriors of Light hated the most is wasting time, being pulled to help so many people, time is a precious resource. A case of mistaken identity or someone asking them to help with what could be a menial task? Fine, depending on which of the three you catch, their irritation may vary. 

_ However _ , there was an exception to which they all agreed to…

And being led around for naught of use was that exception.

Trachtoum didn’t learn from the ‘ _ Tidus Incident’  _ apparently.

Hopefully this time it sticks.


	13. Un/corruptible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 13 (Free Prompt): Integrity  
>  in·teg·ri·ty  
> /inˈteɡrədē/  
> noun  
> 1.  
> the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness.

Most of Eorzea see them as incorruptible pillars of integrity. Regular adventurers that, by chance, became heroes of the realm and an inspiration to all. However life is not so simple, and they wonder…

Would they still trust them, would they still see them as incorruptible; if they knew the truth of their past.

Only two known individuals knew the truth of it. And yet now, both lie dead.

They want to confide in the rest, but the risks outweigh the rewards in their mind. If they are to drag this secret to the grave.

Then so be it.


	14. Script

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 14: Part  
> part  
> /pärt/  
> noun  
> 1.  
> a piece or segment of something such as an object, activity, or period of time, which combined with other pieces makes up the whole.

No matter what, they always had their part to play.

In time immemorial;  _ The Idealistic Fool, The Curious Realist, The Cynical Observer. _

A more innocent time, when some simplicity remained in the world and, then when it did not;  _ A Kinslayer, A Burden, A Coward… _

Moments in their lives that they would take to their graves;  _ Weapons, is what they were called. _

Yet eventually, people forgot to see what came before;  _ They became heroes instead.  _ It was better, but only by a small margin, with those treating them otherwise; The minority.

But they had their part to play, and so they will, until the end.


	15. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 15: Ache  
> ache  
> /āk/  
> noun  
> a continuous or prolonged dull pain in a part of one's body.

He vaguely remembers his first kill.

The dull ache in his face as warm blood slid down it. The painful grip on his knife as his vision came into focus, no longer disorientated from the ambush from his assailant. 

_ ‘Who was it that attacked him that day?’ _

He looks down at his assailant turned victim, but can’t remember the appearance. Were they smaller than him? Were they bigger? No matter how hard he tries he never quite remembers, but he can feel it is important. But, as if an invisible hand kept him from reaching those memories, he could just not finish the puzzle before him.

But even without them he still has a remainder of that life he took, whomever they were, As the scar running down his right eye keeps the memory present.

Even now, sometimes it still hurts like that night, and is reminded of his bloody appearance in the mirror, his face permanently scarred.


End file.
